The Arkansaw traveler., 1887-10-15
THE LITTLE MUSICIAN
BY rILLTE HAMMERsCHLAG.


 foliage, dwelt little child. The lit- tie child was called Pero by his com- panions, but as he was very shy, he did not care to play with the other children. They were not so poor as Pero, but they liked him very much, because he played so sweetly and he sould sing pretty songs, and so they liked to have him with them.
 Some of the little boys longed very play little tune, but he would not part with it even for a second he always kept it under his tattered jacket away from all eyes, for it seemed almost part of himself and he loved it more than anything in this wide world, for poor little Pero was father less and motherless, and in all that broad sunshiny land no one loved the little street musician.
 He was standing on the wide por tico of the plaza one morning watch ing in open-eyed wonder the good ship "Planet" making ready to sail, for many of his countrymen were going away from their native land to the great free country over the blue ocean to earn for themselves home and to join there the friends that had sailed years before.
 Pero longed very much to go with them. Maybe there he, too, would find friends, at any rate he might be able to earn few coppers to buy case for his beloved violin-just such another one as he had seen in the gayly lighted shop-windows ill the fair streets of Naples.
 He must have uttered his thoughts aloud, for he started very suddenly when hand was laid on his shoulder, and kind voice inquired if he wanted to go very much indeed. He was too much surprised and delighted to an- swer, so he only nodded brightly in reply, and with loving exclamation he raised the hand of his good friend to his lips and kissed it.
 The eyes of the man filled with tears, and lifting Pero to his arms he clasped him in warm embrace. Be- fore the ship sailed away little Pero was among the many passengers bound for the far-off shore. Yes, his wish was granted, and he was very happy. But yet little sorrow lin- gered in his heart. His kind friend did not go with him. Had Pero known that his benefactor had sailed on one of the fine steamers and would come to meet him when he landed he would have been much happier, but wait, and you shall see.
 The slow sailing "Planet" had reached Castle Garden at last. The passengers had all landed and gone their different ways, some to stay in the great city, others to go still tal ther west to reach their loved friends.
 Poor little Pero alone was left in the great ship. How unhappy he felt 80 sad and sorrowful. In that large, radiant city he had no place to go no home, no friends. He drew his tat tered sleeve across his eyes to wipe away the tears that would come at the thought of his utter loneliness.
 He had not hoped to see the dear friend again, and he looked his grati- tude and delight when he felt his hand clasped in that of his benefactor's and heard the familiar voice again, saying SO pleasantly: "Welcome, lit- tie pilgrim welcome to America Come with me, child"
 Pero gave a willing hand; he was almost afraid to move or breathe, for it seemed quite too good to be true he feared he might wake up and find it all dream, and he could never bear the disappointment
 He trotted along by the side of his friend through what seemed laby- rinth of streets to Pero until at length they reached a brilliantly lighted mansion, for it was now quite dusk, and Pero's protector led him into the most magnificent room it had ever been his good fortune to behold. With little cry he started forward, and then, ashamed of his impulsiveness, he stepped quickly back again to the door, his face blushing very red in- deed at what seemed to him very great naughtiness. The kind friend only smiled, and drew the little wanderer into his heart and home for ever.
 The great city of New York is very bright tonight, and can you guess the reason? It is because the music loving people are all vending their way to the grandly lighted opera, where they are to hear a young man play on an old, poor little violin, but he makes magic music with it. An, but listen; see, there he is standing % young and handsome, and violin is in his hand. With master touch he draws the bow across the strings. The vast audience is hushed to catch every souu6 every nofe that he ulays The